


Sleep All Summer

by havisham



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve feels like he's going to freeze any moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep All Summer

Cold, like a bar of iron, touched his skin. 

Steve’s eyes flew open and he gasped, and kept gasping, his breaths coming short and panicked. He felt around for something to steady him, something to wrap around himself, but his blanket had fallen to the floor, thanks to his tossing and turning. The light flicked on and he blinked rapidly, half-blinded. 

Bucky said, his voice roughened with sleep, “Steve? You okay? I heard noises.” Steve scrambled down and grabbed his blanket and pulled it over his head. He stared at Bucky for a moment. 

 

Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, wearing an undershirt and a pair of boxers and nothing else. He looked beat, and it wasn’t a surprise, given the hours he worked. It was the best he could do, and even with his work, and Steve’s odd jobs, it was a struggle to keep themselves off the streets. That was a fact of life, there was lots of people who were worse off. 

In a quiet voice, Steve said he was fine. It was just that he couldn’t stop from shivering. Bucky swore softly, under his breath. “The bastard super’s been screwing us over with the heat. I’m gonna have words with him, don’t worry.” 

“Bucky, no -- what if he throws us out?” 

“Nah, won’t happen. You’ll see. Now scoot over, ya big lug.” 

Bucky was already climbing into Steve’s narrow bed, and it shook a little at his weight. Bucky was younger than Steve, but he’d always been taller, stronger than Steve. He took up space, not just with his body, but with his voice, which was just smooth enough to to get him whatever he wanted, and his laugh, which was big and booming. Bucky was warm too, enough that Steve could rub his ice-cold hands against his chest and Bucky would just laugh and close his hands over Steve’s. 

They didn’t share beds like they used to, like they had as kids, but Steve enjoyed this, the closeness more than anything else, and Bucky didn’t grumble about it either. Maybe he liked it more than he let on.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s skinny shoulders with a groan. He ruffled Steve’s fair hair, now sticking up into funny angles. “Jesus, you’re like a bunch of sticks someone threw a blanket on.” 

He covered them both with a blanket, and suddenly Steve’s whole world turned into a dull red color. 

“Jerk,” Steve muttered back, his mouth pressed against Bucky’s warm skin. He knew he wasn’t being too funny, but Bucky began to shake, with little rolls of laughter that moved across his body. 

Impossibly, hypocritically, he said, “Go to sleep!” 

And impossibly, unexpectedly, Steve did just that.

 

* 

Gloria was a very nice girl, with big brown eyes and softly curling black hair that she wore held back with a red ribbon. Snow White couldn’t have done it better, or so Steve told her. (Bucky had fed him the line a minutes before, whispering it into Steve’s ear.) 

Gloria had looked pleased at that. She was one of the nicest girls that Bucky had ever persuaded, by fair means or foul, to come along as Steve’s plus one, for their double-dates. She had just broken up with her boyfriend of several months, and as she told Steve over the course of the night, she was glad to be rid of him. He had been so inconsiderate! So uncouth! Steve stopped her from stepping on a puddle, and she flashed him a bright smile. He smiled back, and looked over to Bucky. He looked away quickly, but not quick enough to miss the easy way Bucky’s arm wrapped around Gladys’ slim waist. 

Meanwhile, Gloria had stopped dead, and looked up at window of an electronics shop. A radio had begun to play a song from a musical that had been popular that summer. She looked at Steve, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “That’s our song!” 

Steve frowned. “We have one already?” 

“No! Norman and I have one! Oh! I have to call him, I have to --” She began to root desperately around in her purse for a nickel. Steve handed her one and she took it, with a hurried thanks. They glanced back at Bucky and Gladys, who were leaning against a light-post, conducting earnest experiments in sustained deprivation of air, and Gloria made an impatient noise. “For God’s sake, Gladys!” 

Gladys and Bucky pulled themselves away from each other, and looked vaguely befuddled. It must have been the lack of oxygen, Steve decided, taking a step back from whatever was going to happen next. Bucky caught that, and gave him a sharp look. Gloria was tugging at her sister’s hand, and they were soon sprinting to the nearest bus stop. Gladys turned back and shouted that she would call Bucky later. Bucky waved her off, and ended up putting his arm around Steve’s shoulders. 

“Nice girls, huh?” 

“Yeah, sure. Nothing better than reminding girls of what they’re missing out on.” 

Bucky winced, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t expect things to end this way, I’ll admit.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve said, turning away, but Bucky caught his hand. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Bucky promised, with a smile that Steve didn’t even know how begin to resist. 

*

Making it up, for Bucky, was getting good and drunk from a hole-in-the-wall near their apartment. The patrons knew better than to mess with Steve, and Bucky kept them laughing and the drinks coming until the closing time. They stumbled out of the door, clutching at each other -- Steve was a lightweight, both literally and figuratively, when it came to drinking, but he had to play the navigator to get them down the street and through the front door of their building, and up the narrow flights of stairs to their apartment door. 

There was a moment of panic when Bucky thought he had left his wallet at the bar, and then again when Steve couldn’t find the keys, but finally, they were safely inside, with Mrs. Wallace from next door, who had only just begun to loudly complain about some dumb kids who didn’t know that some people had to work in the mornings. 

Loudly, they began to shush each other, and that degenerated into giggles, until someone -- Steve wasn’t entirely sure who -- pressed a hand on another’s mouth, and instead of quieting down, things had tilted and shifted and Steve found himself pressing Bucky against a wall, and kissing him for all he was worth. Bucky tasted like stale whiskey and the coffee he had had with dinner, and he sighed and bared his throat to Steve’s hungry mouth. QBucky murmured, between the kisses, “I thought Gloria really could’ve been the one for you, Steve. You could be kissing a girl right now.” 

Steve paused and took a shaky breath. Bucky looked at him with those bright blue eyes that only looked guileless. Steve said, carefully, “I don’t know, Buck. Uh, I kinda like … This.” And he pressed against against Bucky, to demonstrate. Bucky nodded and licked his lips, his eyes unfocused, and Steve decided that he should probably lead him back to bed -- to -- recover. 

But he was a lightweight, after all, and by the time they had both tumbled into bed, there was nothing Steve wanted to do more than crawl under the covers and sleep. 

Bucky was out like a light, though he muttered and tossed and turned. Steve didn’t mind, he was used to it.

 

* 

Steve woke up the next day with a pounding headache and a gnawing pain in his stomach. Even after several cups of coffee, the pain didn’t go away. Bucky had gone to his job and Steve still had several hours before he had to go to his. Shit! What was he going to say when he saw Bucky again? “I was drunk” didn’t even begin to cover it. _You don’t kiss your best friend, no matter how drunk you are._ Steve was tempted to bang his head against the wall, but resisted. He would bruise and the walls here were alarmingly thin. 

He couldn’t believe he had kissed Bucky. He couldn’t believe that Bucky had kissed him back. 

_Wait -- had he? He hadn’t thrown Steve across the room, sure, but..._

_Maybe_ , Steve thought desperately, _he won’t remember any of it. Maybe it hadn’t even happened -- maybe it was just a dream!_ They had seen _The Wizard of Oz_ a couple of weeks ago. It wasn't realistic, sure, but Steve was willing to take anything.

He glanced up a the clock, and was relieved to see that he was almost running late. He sprinted out the door -- and sprinted back, to close it. Steve spent the rest of the day resolutely not thinking of Bucky at all.

* 

When Bucky came back home, he was carrying a bag of sandwiches from a deli a few blocks away. Steve took one gladly, though his hands were still stained with newsprint. They ate quietly, listening to the clicks and pops of the heating that finally began to flow through the apartment. Already, the temperature in the room was more tepid than cold. 

Steve said quietly, “Bucky?” 

Bucky looked up, startled, a piece of lettuce stuck on the corner of his mouth. “What?” 

Steve fidgeted, playing with a bread crust. He looked up to see Bucky’s face, which was open and only a little confused. “You’re not mad?” 

“About what --? Oh,” recognition dawned on Bucky’s face, and he smiled and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it.” 

“But I --” 

“I spoke to the landlord. See? The heat’s working.” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, brushing the crumbs from the front of his shirt, avoiding Bucky’s eye. “What’d you have to do to get him to fix it?” 

Bucky gave him an indulgent look. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” 

“Haha, you’re a funny guy.” 

“The funniest, I’d say,” came Bucky’s smug reply. 

“If I was -- say, born on a desert island and I’d never heard a joke before, I think I’d agree,” Steve said, and Bucky smirked. Soon, it was time to clean up and Bucky went to take out the trash while Steve washed up. 

When that was over, and Bucky began to get ready to go out again, Steve stopped him. “I just wanna say, thanks.” 

“What for?” And before Steve could reply, Bucky put a hand on his face and leaned down. There was moment where they were frozen like this, and Steve’s breath hitched and his stomach made slow somersaults in his belly. His eyes were huge, dark pools of water. Bucky reached out and gently squeezed Steve’s bottom lip together. 

“Christ, Bucky,” Steve said, with difficulty, though Bucky’s hand was now at his side. Bucky kissed him before he could say anything more.

*

The radiator gave one last rattle and stopped. Steve sighed and threw his hand out and hit something solid. Bucky rolled over and muttered, “What is it?” 

Steve sniffled, he felt the beginnings of a cold coming on, the inevitable chill that spread throughout his body. The solid bulk of Bucky’s body wasn’t enough, and somehow Steve doubted that he would ever get warm. “The heat’s gone out,” he said, burrowing deeper into their thin blankets. Bucky groaned, and began to curse quietly, viciously. 

Steve held still, shivering a little, and wondered aloud what they was supposed to do now. 

Bucky turned and gave him a speculative look. “Well, I have an idea, if you’re up for it.” 

Steve inched away and said nervously, “Bucky, you know how thin these walls are...” 

“I can keep quiet. How about you, Steve?” 

“I … Yeah,” Steve swallowed, “I can.” 

Later, a noise escaped Steve’s mouth that was halfway from a sigh to a squeak and Bucky nearly shook him out of bed with the force of his laughter. It was good, so good that Steve seemed to glow with it, his blood flowing to every extremity of his body until he forgot to be tired, or cold, or sick. 

 

(It was all Bucky’s fault.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Alex for the beta! 
> 
> Title from a really Steve and Bucky-ish [song of the same name.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztzfr1PjFCY&feature=kp)


End file.
